Brothers in Arms
by SecretAgent86
Summary: They all knew something was up with their fellow Marauder, Padfoot, even if he wouldn't admit it. They won't stop until they find the answer, even if it's one they wish that they never found. Rated for hints of Child Abuse.


**Hi! This is my first ever story that I have ever written, I'm a little nervous about it, but writing it made me realize that I love to write. I'm looking to become a better writer, and I would love for some reviews and constructive criticism. Thank you all so much for reading this! Oh, and I don't own Harry Potter of any of the characters within, sadly.**

**PLEASE READ: In this story, non of the Marauders are gay, or have any form of incestual relationship going. I have absolutely no problem with gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender, or any other type of sexual identity/orientation whatsoever, but this story is supposed to be read as just friendship, not romance, so please don't take it that way. Thank you!  
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Sirius Black winced as he stepped out of Professor McGonagall's fireplace. In his Floo over, he had banged his arm against the brick walls as he spun crazily, right on the spot where a large bruise lay. "Well," he thought grimly, "at least I have an excuse now." The black haired boy flashed Professor McGonagall his famous dazzling smile, and said in his most kiss-assy voice, "Good evening Minnie. You look simply radiant today. That new hat really brings out the color of your eyes." He then flashed a grin over to where he knew that his best friend James was waiting for him under his Invisibility Cloak in the corner.

Professor McGonagall scowled, and Sirius could hear an audible snicker from where he knew James to be. But the Deputy Headmistress, unaware of their "guest," flushed slightly, and managed to purse her lips together in the thinnest of thin lines, thinner than should be humanly possible. "Don't get any ash on the floor," was her terse reply, as she got up from behind her desk and held the door open for Sirius, and unbeknownst to her, James.

Sirius just thought, "Damn, it's good to be home." Suppressing a sad sigh at the thought of his technical home, Sirius left the office and officially greeted his best mate in the whole world.

As they traipsed back to the common room, each telling about their Christmas's (Sirius giving a very abridged and somewhat made-up version), James couldn't help but think that Sirius seemed different; more guarded, but going out of his way to come off as funnier and more bombastic than his usual (cocky) self. Come to think of it, James realized that his best mate always seemed odd when returning after breaks. But James knew that Sirius's parents were pretty strict, and that they didn't have the best relationship with their eldest son, so he always just let it slide. But this time seemed different…

When the two troublemakers reached a flight of stairs, James couldn't help but notice his friend wince as they climbed. "Hey Paddy," he grabbed Sirius gently by the arm to stop him. Sirius inwardly cursed as not only was he unable to hide the pain from his bruised ribs, and gave himself away by wincing like a girl, but James, though his grip was light, had just grabbed one of his bruises. Doing his best not to show any pain and to look normal, he turned to look at the black-haired boy holding his arm. "What's up?" James continued.

Sirius shrugged and said, "Whaddya mean?" VERY casually.

"Well you winced, and you've been walking a bit," he paused, searching for the right word, "tenderly. You hurt?" Concern filled his hazel eyes.

Sirius, being the expert liar that he was, said with an uncannily good fake slightly sheepish grin, "Oh ya! Damn Floo! I was trying to get out early, see if I could have some fun, but I…uh…well…kinda just got slammed into the walls a lot, and got my ass thoroughly beat by a freakin' chimney." He then let out his bark-like laugh. However it was a little off. James, not buying they story, and his suspicions mounting, decided to play along and drop it. For now. He'd have to talk to Moony first. The two continued on their way to the tower.

That night when getting changed into his pajamas, Sirius's shirt rode up just a bit, and for a second, he was terrified, sure that his friends has seen the bruises hidden beneath it. But when he looked, James was in the middle of a conversation with Wormy, and Moony was absorbed in a book. He breathed a sigh of relief, and climbed into his four-poster. It'd been a long day.

James, who was much more observant than Sirius gave him for, exchanged a look with Remus. They had both noticed. Soon Sirius's deep breaths and occasional dog-like snorting snurgles and woofles (snores) filled the room, and Peter's wheezy snuffling snores followed soon after. James was just getting up when Remus appeared at his bed. Silently he climbed on and James tugged the curtains shut while the werewolf cast a spell to ensure that they couldn't be overheard. "You saw them, right." It was not a question, but a statement. Remus nodded.

"We need to talk to him about it, found out what happened."

James snorted, "Merlin, Moony. If you expect him to tell us the truth, then you must be thicker than Wormy after the Halloween Feast. This is Paddy we're talking about. He can lie and come up with stories better than anyone. Plus he hates talking about his feelings and his family."

Remus's face darkened. "It's worth a try, and if he's not open with us, then we'll confront him, and make him be. We'll do whatever it takes." They both nodded solemnly. They stayed up half the night talking it over, making a plan of how to best approach the situation.

It was nearly 4:00 in the morning when they finally agreed to go to bed. "Damn," James muttered, as he pulled open the hangings and removed their silencing charms, "classes are gonna be a bitch tomorrow." He tried and failed to stifle a huge yawn, and Remus almost smiled at this. But, it was with a heavy heart that he climbed into his own bed.

The next day was indeed a bitch. Well, at least for the four Marauders it was. Sirius spent the day in exhaustion and paranoia from trying to hide his pain, and laughing too loudly, grinning too much, and being way too over the top. James and Remus, apart from being so tires that they could barely keep their eyes open, were quite nervous about what was to come; they had all been on the wrong end of Sirius's wrath, and it was not pretty. Or fun. Frankly it was quite terrifying, he just didn't know when to stop. Peter couldn't help but suspect that they're was something going on with his friends, and he decided to ask Remus or James about it later, if he could find the courage…

In the common room that night Sirius was attempting to finish his nasty Transfiguration essay, that he'd been assigned as punishment by McGonagall, for being "inappropriate" in class (standing on a desk while singing In The Mood by Bette Midler), with many snorts and crossings out. Peter was chewing his ratty nails down to the stubs while also trying to finish his potions homework. He was bothered; he knew that there was something odd about his fellow Marauder, and when he spoke to Remus about it, he was told to wait until tonight. Well, the sky was dark, they'd eaten dinner, and it seemed like night to him, but he still didn't have a clue. James was playing exploding snap, but only to give himself something to do, His mind wasn't in the game, and he therefore wound up with a blackened sooty face, and no eyebrows. "Hey, Prongsie, nice look, that," Sirius snorted when he saw the soot on James's nose and his missing eyebrows. James then assessed the damage, and attempted to fix his eyebrows. Remus was reading or at least pretending to, but he hadn't taken in a single word, and kept glancing up at his friends.

After what seemed like ages, Sirius rolled up his punishment essay, gingerly pushed himself up (doing his utmost not to wince, however not quite succeeding) and said, "Well that's as good as it's gonna get. Prongs, d'you wanna play a game of chess?"

James, who seemed to shake himself out of a stupor, paused a moment, trying to recall the question asked. When it came to him he replied, "Wha-? Oh, ya sure Paddy. It'd probably be better and safer for my facial hair," attempting to grin.

Sirius snorted in response, and muttered mischievously, "What facial hair? I'm gonna put this damned essay away, get changed, and grab my chess set. Be down in a few." He began to saunter towards the boys' staircase, but turned and called over his shoulder, "Don't let Wormy steal that seat by the fire, I got dibs!" He then made his way oh so casually out of the common room, though once out of sight of the room below, he clutched his aching ribs, gasping slightly, and made his way much more slowly up the remaining stairs to the fifth year dormitory, using the banister for support.

Once Sirius was out of sight the boys exchanges looks, nodded and got up simultaneously, all without saying a word. They too crossed to the stairs and began to climb, them also going as slowly as they dared. Outside the door of their dormitory the three again traded glances, nodded, each taking a deep, calming breath. Then, as one, they pushed open the door to confront their fellow Marauder and best friend.

Sirius had his back to the door, but he still heard it open. Subconsciously he checked to make sure that the pajamas that he'd just changed into were fully covering his arms, legs, and torso. They did. He then turned to face the boys that had just entered the room. He was a bit surprised when he saw them all staring at him resolutely, and with such somber expressions on their faces. "What's up?" he asked. There was a pause in which all eyes were still trained on the now slightly fidgeting boy.

After a moment or so, Remus nudged James who then cleared his throat, and hesitantly opened his mouth. "We want to talk to you Padfoot." Sirius immediately felt his mouth go dry as a wave of panic flooded over him. But, being the expert that he was, played it cool, "'Bout what Prongsie? Got another scheme to get Lily to go out with you? I'd've given up by now if it were me. I think that after that last hex and those very kind words from her about the size of your giant head making up for the size of your other parts, it's pretty clear that she's NOT INTERESTED!" Sirius grinned. No one else did, instead they remained stony-faced.

"No," said James. "We wanted to talk to you about your parents." Sirius's face immediately flushed in anger and then paled in fear. However, because he was Sirius freakin' Black and Black's let alone him, did NOT show their emotions, he willed his face back to its normal color. "What about them?" he replied coolly.

"About how they treat you," said James.

Sirius, angering, but still not showing it replied, "What about it? You already know that they're cranky assholes." The defensive boy glared at the others, as if daring them to keep talking, but secretly praying with all of his might that they wouldn't and would just drop it instead.

"Yes, but there has to be more to it," James pressed. Silence and Sirius's icy glare met him in place of a response. After a few awkward moments he asked his friend, "Look, what really happened over your holidays?"

"Nothing!" Insisted the grey-eyed boy, whishing as opposed to believing that it was true. "They ignored me as usual. I prefer it that way," he added darkly.

"But Sirius," Remus's quiet voice rang through the room. They all seemed taken aback by him using Sirius's actual name instead of his nickname, "How can you be okay with your own parents ignoring you?"

"Trust me, it's better that way."

"How?" Remus added imploringly, desperation in his voice.

"God damn it!" Sirius's voice began to escalate as the emotions that he'd been fighting to so carefully control crept out of their well-guarded spot. "YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT THEY'RE LIKE!" he shouted. "THEY HATE MUGGLES! THEY HATE MUGGLE-BORNS! THEY HATE BLOOD TRAITORS! THEY HATE GRYFFINDORS! THEY HATE EVERYONE WHO'S NOT A PUREBLOOD AND'S IN SLYTHERIN! THEY HATE M—" Sirius's voice broke, but he caught himself before he let slip the final hideous word.

"You?" Asked Remus in a voice so quiet that it was almost a whisper "They hate you?"

Sirius willed himself to remain strong. "I'm not talking about this!" He snapped. He strode over to the door, in an attempt to storm back down to the common room where he knew that they could not continue lecturing him about this. But to everyone's amazement, Peter stepped in front of the door, blocking Sirius from leaving.

"But Sirius," he said, voice shaking slightly, "we h-have to talk about it. How else can we make it better?"

"Get out of my way!" growled Sirius menacingly, sounding, for the first time, like a true Black. Peter didn't budge. "MOVE!" Sirius roared.

"No," came Peter's firm reply. Even Sirius, furious as he was, was shocked. Cowardly little Peter, who never stood up for himself or to anyone else, telling him, of all people, no! The black-haired boy tried to shove past the chubby one, but the latter held his ground, and after a few seconds of struggling James and Remus leaped in and dragged Sirius away from Peter. James locked the dormitory door with his wand and Remus cast a spell to ensure that no one else could hear them, all the while both still holding on to the still struggling Sirius.

"Get off me!" he spat with as much venom possible. Yet their grips didn't loosen. "LET GO!" he yelled, finally managing to wrench his arms free, and pulling out his own wand. Peter also pulled out his wand, and the three friends faced Sirius, wands raised. Sirius turned to the door and tried to yank it pen, and then charm it open, but James had cast his spells well. "LET ME GO!" he screamed in fury. And in his rage he pointed his wand at Remus's beside table, and it exploded violently. The boys, however, refused to let him go, so therefore, more and more of the furniture met the same fate as Remus's table.

"Sirius! Stop," Remus begged, not for the sake of his possessions, but for the sake of his friend. "Please." Sirius lowered his wand slightly and temporarily stopped blasting the room apart. "We can talk this out."

"There's nothing to talk about!" Sirius replied harshly, his voice bitter.

"You and your dad need to talk. That might make it better?" Remus suggested. Sirius began to laugh manically. The idea of him and his dad having a civil conversation, one that actually involved talking, was ridiculous and humorous in a disturbing way. His mad laughter was terrifying, his face contorted, and he looked truly mental.

"He hits you, doesn't he?" It was Peter, his voice barely audible.

"NO!" Sirius shouted, far too forcefully.

"Yes he does," said Peter, his eyes shining, but voice steady.

"NO HE DOESN'T!" screamed Sirius, losing control. Bang! A huge smoking crater appeared in the floor between them.

"Then where are those bruises from?" asked Remus.

"I don't even know that you're talking about!" he hissed back.

"Yes you do. We all know. It's okay Sirius," Peter said gently.

"I'M FINE!"

"Then show us your chest."

"THERE'S NOTHING WRONG WITH ME!"

"Then show us. Please" There was despair in Remus's voice. "Sirius, please," his voice cracked with the strain of it. Sirius felt his resolve beginning to break down, but using all of his strength, he forced it back up.

"Leave me alone." His voice was like ice.

"We can help you," insisted Peter.

"I DON'T NEED HELP!" Sirius screamed in a frenzy of hysteria. He whirled around and the windows shattered the floor cracked, paint chipped, and more holes were blasted as glass, wood, feathers, and mattress stuffing flew in all directions. Remus darted forward and laid a hand on the frenzied boy's shoulder. With the comforting touch, the latter's wand slowly dropped.

"Please, Sirius, please. Show us your chest." Slowly, trembling slightly, and with Remus's guidance and pleading, Sirius turned to face his friends. He undid the buttons of his pajama top with shaking fingers, not looking at any of them, and pulled the top off. They gasped; bruises littered Sirius's arms. They covered his chest and stomach too, and his rib cage was completely black and blue. Several deep cuts were slashed upon the boy's skin, and welts, that seemed to be from a belt, crisscrossed their way across his arms and back. It was a sight that none of the boys would ever forget. The look on Sirius's face, more terrible than the wounds marring his young body, was dark, shadowed by bitterness. Standing before them, he looked like a lost child, with no one left to turn to, and with no hope left of any good in the world.

"Happy?" he asked, voice hollow, eyes haunted, clouded over by grief and pain. No one said a word.

Peter's watery eyes became even more so watery as they filled with tears. "Oh Sirius," he whispered.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Remus had been expecting the worst, but this? It still came as a shock. A slap in the face. Only worse. Much, much worse. It was like having to transform a hundred times in a row.

"'Cause I can and handle this myself. It's not a big deal," yet even as he said this, the look of despair on his handsome face gave him away.

James, who had not spoken during any of this, let out a hollow, incredulous laugh. "Not a big deal? Not a big deal! You show up, half beaten to death by your own fucking father," he spat the word in disgust, "and you're trying to tell us, tell me, that this is not a big deal!" He was struggling to keep his rage in control, and out of his voice. If ever he met the man who had done this to his own son, James's best mate, his brother…

"It's not," Sirius mumbled. Then even more quietly, "I deserve it."

James let out a roar of fury. "HOW COULD YOU POSSIBLY DESERVE THIS? HOW!" How could anyone?…

"I've always done everything wrong!" Moaned Sirius. "I've always been a disappointment to them. I'm not good enough. Everyone else is the same, they're in Slytherin, and I in Gryffindor, goddamn Gryffindor! I'm friends with, or at least I was, a werewolf, a half-blood, and a blood traitor Potter! I'm a blood traitor! I always disappoint them. I can't do anything right! I get into trouble at school, I don't listen, I talk back, I go out of my way to annoy them. I deserve it. They wanted to love me. They tried to love me. And they used to love me, but I fucked it all up! I fucked everything up! I always fuck everything up!" Sirius's voice broke, and he turned away and gazed out the open widow, so that they couldn't see the sorrow twisting his face. Sirius felt a hand on his arm, and automatically flinches, waiting for the blow. Fear sparked in his grey eyes as memories rushed back to him. However the hand on his arm was warm, not deathly cold, and it didn't grab, drag, shove, or punch him. Instead it gently turned him around and pulled him into a hug.

He stood there face screwed up against the howl of misery, Sirius felt something hot and wet burn down his check as he was held by the boy who was more than a brother to him. More tears rolled down his face to join the first. Sirius Black was crying, and Sirius never cried. Never. And then, he was sobbing into James's chest, tears soaking through his friend's robes. He seemed to be outside of his body, watching as he cried about and admitted the cruelty that was his life for the first time ever. And then his legs gave out, and Sirius could see and feel the smaller boy struggling to hold the both of them up. They sunk onto the floor, in the middle of a crater Sirius had blasted, among the scattered glass, wood, feathers, stuffing, and chipped paint, James cradling Sirius in his arms as he continued to cry into his chest. James could feel the tears on his own cheeks, but it didn't matter. All that mattered was protecting his brother—because that's what he was—from anyone ever hurting him again. He knew that he'd been too late, that he'd let Sirius down; failed him, and there was nothing that he could do, but hold Sirius and try to protect him from the world that had already hurt him so badly.

James could feel Sirius's body wracking with sobs, but he just held on tighter, whispering that it would be alright, that everything would be okay, that he'd never leave him. James heard footsteps, and still keeping his arms wrapped around the beaten and finally broken boy resting on him, looked up to see his other brothers sinking down in the crater next to him; neither set of eyes dry. And so they sat on either side of James, and held on to their brothers. They rubbed Sirius's scarred back, and stroked his hair, and murmured empty words of soothing, and did their best to remain strong; for him; for all of them.

After what may have been hours, or even days; for time itself had lost all meaning; Sirius drifted off into an uneasy and feverish sleep. His head still remained on James's chest, and his body in the arms of all three of the boys around him. If anyone had seen into the dormitory, they would have found four boys sitting in the middle of a decimated room. One boy, tall and handsome with jet black hair, but covered in scars and bruises, fast asleep, sitting on the lap of a smaller and skinnier black haired boy, his head resting upon his chest, one fist clutching the second boy's robes, as a child might clutch a safety blanket. The remaining two boys; one skinny with mousy brown hair, the other pudgy with light brown hair; each say on one side of the seconds black haired boy, their heads each resting on one of his shoulders, their arms hugging the two in the middle, fingers touching. The sight of them, the cruelty, and the love; it would have broken someone's heart to see.

And yet it did break someone's heart. It broke Regulus Black's heart to see his brother—whom he'd always thought invincible—so vulnerable and broken, looking younger than he'd ever seen him. It broke Regulus's heart to know that his brother had better brothers than himself; they had seen through Sirius's façade, and they stood by his side through it all.

He of course had known how their parents treated Sirius. Yes, he had known their feelings, and actions, and yet he'd never done anything. Never once had he stood up for his brother. No, he'd always assumed that the cruel words, along with the vicious attacks bounced off of Sirius. Regulus too had been on the receiving end of their father's wrath, but he's never had it as bad as Sirius; he was the good child according to their parents. Plus, when they were kids, Sirius would always take the blame, and the beatings that coincided, for him. But Regulus knew that he did not deserve it. Sirius was a Gryffindor; possessing the bravery, loyalty, loving nature, and kindness that came with that classification in profusion. Regulus on the other hand was a dirty Slytherin; ambitious, ignorant, jealous, selfish, cunning, indifferent, and downright cruel. His fury at himself for letting this happen, and for never noticing how his parents' venom hurt his brother bubbled up inside him, clawing to escape. He was filled with disgust and remorse along with the unstoppable anger. Regulus Black now knew why the Black's played favorites among their children; but he could not for the life of him figure out why he was the favorite. How could their parents have made such a huge mistake?

Regulus had come to find Sirius to check and make sure that he was okay—for he was well aware that the most recent encounter with their father had been one of the worst beatings ever for Sirius—because he felt that he owed him that much at the very least. However, seeing him on the ground, amid the destruction, covered in welts, bruises, and caked blood, in the arms of his real brothers, and clearly not okay at all, made Regulus feel sick to his stomach. The eldest Black son never cried. When he'd cried as a child, he'd made sure that no one ever saw, heard, or knew. But here he was now, and it was clear that Sirius had been crying. The sight shocked Regulus, but more than his tears, was the fact that he was open about them to these boys overwhelmed him.

Guilt again tore at his heart; he should be in there. He, Sirius's blood brother, should be there, wiping away his tears, not these other boys. Regulus longed to join them, and knew that Sirius would have forgiven him, welcomed him with open arms, and apologized to him (thought here was nothing Sirius needed to apologize for, and he certainly didn't deserve an apology or kind treatment of any sorts). Yet, being an awful cowardly Slytherin, he just watched as Sirius was comforted and protected by people who were not him, but who should be. He was jealous of his brother for having such close friends who loved him so, for being brave, and for being able to love despite what he had to go through.

And them, he did the bravest thing that he could have done; he gathered his couarage, and with an unvelievable amount of willpower, turned around and began to walk down the deserted spiral staircase. He knew that Sirius would be better off and happier with his true brothers, not him. He'd be safer that way. In the end, he'd be happier. Regulus decided that, no matter how much it hurt, he'd push his brother away. He'd push and push until Sirius didn't come back. Until he gave up on Regulus. And it was going to be so hard, for Sirius was like a big, loveable dog; he'll keep coming back to protect you, to love you, even though you aren't worth it. Even though you keep hurting him. It's like kicking a dog, because that is what he is, and you, you are a poisonous cane toad; all you ever do is hurt the people (person) you love most.

Inside the dormitory, the spell seemed to break as the youngest Black walked away. Sirius stirred and began to wake, the peace of his sleep broken. He started to whimper and squirm. At once Peter and Remus stood and then bent to lift Sirius, James moving upwards at the same time so as not to wake the sleeping boy resting on him, James, being a seeker, was much too small to lift and carry Sirius on his own, but together all three boys carried their injured and unconscious friend over to the nearest bed, which happened to be James's. Remus, never releasing Sirius, pulled out his wand and murmured a spell to return the bed to its normal un-maimed state. He then pulled down the covers and took Sirius so James could climb in (Remus, though not as big and bulky, was very strong on account of being a werewolf and was much stronger than skinny James). He then laid Sirius, who had again started to whimper when pulled out of James's arms, down nest to James and crawled in on his other side, while Peter clambered in on James's other side. All four lay together, looking ridiculously like three year olds in the bed, but it was that Sirius needed, what they all needed. Remus stroked Sirius's hair. He could feel James simultaneously rubbing his bruised back and murmuring to him that it's all be okay.

Sirius moaned and twitched, his eyes cracking open, but still not seeing. They had a faraway, distant fever glazed look. He was burning up with a fever. Then he murmured something about his family to which Remus said, "No. They can't hurt you anymore."

Peter said, "We won't let them, Padfoot."

Then Sirius, still with the fever in his eyes said, "But my family has never hurt me. You're my family." James shifted, keeping his arm around Sirius while grasping both Peter's and Remus's hands both of whom moved to grasp each other's and Sirius's hands. "We are you're family. We'll never hurt you," Remus told Sirius, who in his fever, probably couldn't comprehend what was being said.

"Ya," echoed James. "You're our brother. We love you Padfoot."

Just as they were all drifting off to sleep, Sirius said, "You're my brothers, and I love you Wormy, Moony, and Prongsie." HE then let out a sigh, and they all succumbed to sleep, brothers in arms.

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FIN

**Thank you all so much! I would really appreciate reviews!**

**-Lia  
**


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